Chapter XXIX

A Running Conversation

'Go home' It wasn't the dressing down, or that Brass had taken point on the case. It was his tone of voice. Jim was disappointed in her. Damn it. She was disappointed in herself. She prided herself on her control, on the tight reins she kept on her temper. She did not lose it, not like that, not practically in the middle of the squad room. She passed a rental Econobox with white knuckles on the wheel, aggressively weaving through traffic. She didn't take her foot out of the floor long enough to think about the several traffic laws she was bending and breaking.

She hated disappointing Jim. He sounded just like her dad when he'd been disappointed in her -- yell at her, give her the silent treatment, bust her back to shit assignments or desk duty. Anything but that defeated tone in their voices and the wounded look in their eyes.

A fresh wave of anger rolled through her when she stopped at one of the interminably long traffic lights on Blue Diamond Road. Catherine hadgoaded her into it. No wonder Sara fought with the other woman so much. Damn it, she stewed as she made a left turn.

Yes Catherine and her 'pretty face' comment had gotten to her. That didn't excuse her behaviour, though. Still, she had put up with Catherine off and on for a few years now. Why had that comment affected her more than the others? Maybe, Sofia sighed as she made a right onto the street she lived, it was because there was a granule of truth to it somewhere. She didn't want Alex Dupree to be their killer. That would devastate Sara. Why that worried her so much was another one of those things that she had blatantly been ignoring lately. Sofia braked and down-shifted as she pulled into the short driveway in front of her condo. Her thoughts were jumbled in her head and, as she slid her keys out of the car's ignition, she knew that sleep, no matter how much she desperately needed it, was not going to come easily.

After unlocking the knob and the two deadbolts on her door, she slammed it behind her and the crack of wood on wood echoed through her empty condo. That, for some inexplicable reason, made her even madder.

A short ten minutes later, sleep momentarily impossible, she left again. Sofia had changed out of her wrinkled work slacks and button-down in favor of her running clothes. The gray LVPD sweats had been mercilessly hacked short in concession to the heat and her blonde hair was pulled back and out of her face. She didn't have a destination in mind, but seven or so miles would probably be enough to calm down her brain and chase the tension out of her muscles. Then sleep would come, hopefully.

She let Riley take the lead. The overgrown puppy tugged her along their usual route, happily oblivious to the chaos her life had fallen into. They were jogging down the west side jogging trail through the park and when they got to the other side of the winding mile and a half path, they would make their usual stop across the street for water and coffee before running the mile and a half back up the east side of the trail. After that, there was only four blocks worth of urban sprawl between them and home. Riley was on his leash and she was clad in a faded and almost too small tee-shirt that proudly declared her as property of the Harvard Physics Department , knee length black running shorts and cross trainers. She probably looked like hell, but didn't care.

She counted the steps and ticked off a comforting rhythm in her head as she jogged. Her footfalls were steady and constant and her strides matched the beats in her head. Sweat left a dark V, attesting to her exercise, on her shirt, before it evaporated in the dry desert heat. She let the drumming of her heart and of her feet drown out the frustrating thoughts. She let the green grass and the children playing in the nearby playground cover over the images looping over and over again in her mind's eye. She was trying to, at least. It was hard to outrun yourself, she had learned that a long time ago. The thoughts, the images, the responsibilities, they all eventually caught back up to you.

For now, though, she was content to watch Riley run in front of her, barking and panting at a squirrel who'd jumped across their path. When she was finished with her run, she would go back home and sleep. She knew what would happen then. When she couldn't control or regulate it, her mind would play tricks on her. Those pictures she didn't want to see would come back. Victims and their bloody deaths, memories from a past she didn't want to remember.

At that thought, she let out an grunt and picked up her pace, there was no need to make herself miserable, yet. When the path, familiar from seven or so years of running it, turned to head back through the park, Riley nosed off to the side. There was no formal entrance or exit here, but their numerous trips through the shrubbery and thin layer of skinny trees had worn a path for them. The street the park bordered was a quiet. They jogged along the sidewalk and turned the corner towards busier streets and the strip mall.

She was already reeling Riley in and looping the leash around her wrist to tie him to his usual bench when she saw that it was already occupied. She had, over the course of crossing the street and turning the corner, slowed her brisk jog to a walk and now she slowed down even more. The woman on the bench looked tired and, more so, she looked troubled. Had it been any other person, hell any other co-worker, and Sara might had avoided the gaze. It was, however, Sofia, and the choice was in no way hers. Riley had a long memory for people who petted him and he rushed toward the detective fast enough to jerk the leash almost completely out of her hand.

Sofia welcomed the dog with a smile and open arms. "You guys run the same route everyday, huh?" Since there was a half-empty iced mocha beside Sofia, it was obvious she'd been inside. The barista girl had probably answered that question.

Sara shrugged, "The park's convenient and Riley likes it."

Sofia handed her a still frosty drink from where it had been sitting on the window ledge and the usual bottle of water that went with it. "Girl knew your order."

Sara rolled her eyes and took the collapsible dog dish out of her pocket. Riley didn't even wait for her to stop pouring the water. He just shoved his dark blonde head between the bottle and the bowel and started lapping. "That's how you get in trouble, you know, routine." Sara sat back up straight and took a drink of her coffee. "What, you think I should go jogging with my gun?"

Sofia's answer was quick and serious, "Yes."

Sara took another sip. "So I take it, you don't usually run this way?"

Sofia shrugged, "I didn't set out to run this way, no."

They sat quietly for a minute and then Sara smiled, "I heard about you and Catherine." Sofia gave her a sideways look, and she continued, "It's never a smart thing to do, but it feels great while you're doing it."

Sofia chuckled, "I guess you speak from experience."

Sara nodded, "I believe Jim's exact words to me before we got to the squad room were, 'Don't start trouble with Catherine' and I didn't, but she and I are still going to have words. She pushes at me and I push back, she doesn't usually go after other targets." She shook her head, "She went over the line today."

Beside her, one hand still absently petting Riley, Sofia nodded, "Yanked Dupree right off her breakfast table, or so she said."

Sara spat the straw out of her mouth, mid sip, which caused iced coffee to plop unceremoniously on her shirt. "She barged into the dining room with two deputies and perp walked Alex out the hotel's main entrance. I was left standing there like an idiot." Sara watched Sofia's face and realized that the blonde detective hadn't actually known who Alex had been having breakfast with. She thought over it a moment and made a quick and somewhat, for her at least, out of the ordinary decision. "I'll fill you in while we finish our run in the park."

It was, for her, a huge leap of faith. When Sofia shot her now empty cup into the trash, stood up and took Riley's leash from her hands and smiled, Sara knew she had made the right choice.

The park was charming, she could see why Sara ran through it every day. With Riley tugging her along, sniffing out every possible rodent intruder on the path, it came damn near to Mayberry. The pace was slower, almost a walking speed, then her usual run, but the company was excellent. Eventually, they sat down on the grass overlooking an impromptu soccer game, and Sara began to talk.

By habit or perhaps desire, Sofia committed the scene to memory. The green of the grass and the shadow of the carefully tended trees. The bright sunlight and the distant tinkle of children playing. The dog rolling around, begging for attention.

"I had just made CSI Level One." Sara chuckled, "I was young, a little talented and so unbelievably cocky at times. I met Alex on a crime scene, a dead model at a lingerie show. She was Alex's friend. When it all came down to it, Alex was a --" Sara paused for a moment, "A witness too. I talked with her a lot, helped her through the process of giving a statement and then testifying at the trial. It was a cautious sort of relationship. It started off with her throwing things at me, you know. After the trial, she kept pursuing me, and things just sort of fell into place.

Sofia ran her fingers through the green grass they were currently sitting on. "You two started the relationship throwing things at each other, no wonder it went so bad. I usually don't have to rely on my duck and cover skills until the end."

Sara laughed and shoved her playfully, "Can I finish or are you going to critique me the whole time?"

Sofia settled back on her elbows and ran her fingers across her lips, showing that they were zipped. Watching Sara was no hardship. She was dressed in old sweaty clothes, wasn't wearing an ounce of makeup and her hair had scrunched into wild curls. Sara's dark eyes were wide and somewhat removed from the here and now. It was her voice, though, that was most captivating. It was soulful and melodic as she spoke of past years, long closed cases, and old loves.

San Fransisco

May 1996

Hall Of Justice

It was raining. She generally loved the rain, it was a relaxing. Unless of course, you were trying to salvage a crime scene during a downpour. It had been raining since around ten on Saturday morning and it hadn't really stopped since. It had poured, pattered, misted and dribbled all the way to now. It was... well, Sara wasn't exactly sure what time it was. She was just coming off of a triple that had stretched into eternity and was so tired she could barely assemble words into coherent sentences. Hell, she could barely link up grunts and grumbles into words, and to think she'd wanted to be a CSI. Though she couldn't see it, she knew fog would be coming in off the Bay, which would make the roadways even more dangerous. It was going to be a nasty night and she was thankful that she had the next day off.

She had been forced to make due with department issued jumpsuits and work out clothes because she had never made it back to her apartment to change clothes or even do laundry. Despite spending her weekend and part of Monday on a frantic search for a child killer, a smile slipped over her face when she thought of whyshe hadn't gotten to her apartment. She stretched as she walked through the parking garage. It hadn't been so much a why as it had been a who. Alex Dupree had definitely rocked her world. She still couldn't believe she had slept with the woman. Technically the case was over and done with, but still. You weren't really supposed to take your work home with you, or go home with her... it.

Ho-boy, it had been great though. She rubbed her hands over her messy hair. Between the current rain and the fact that she had only been able to grab one fast shower in the locker room, her hair had completely rebelled. The swirls, curls and corkscrews were out in full force and frizzy to the max. It didn't matter it was past quitting time on Monday, she was beat and still hadn't been able to get rid of the reek of garbage that came with dumpster diving for evidence off her. She just wanted home and sleep and maybe a quick meal. She would take an endless shower, binge on something with enough calories and fat to kill a horse, turn on the television and let reruns send her into a sleep so deep that the Apocalypse could happen and she wouldn't twitch.

Her train of thought, if you could consider repeating shower-food-sleep over and over again a train of thought, came to an abrupt halt and derailment. Leaning against her second-hand black Jeep Wrangler was a perfectly arranged and presented Alexandra Dupree. The woman her pager had pulled her away from early Saturday morning. She looked amazing and Sara was pretty sure she still had finger print powder on her face. Lovely. She threw her now bulging bag into the vehicle's passenger seat and came around, keys in hand. She was a full grown woman and she had been struck mute like gawky junior high student asking a girl to a movie. "Hi." She got an A for effort and a D-minus for originality.

Alex, though, smiled at her, dimples winking. "You know I had to pretend to be your sister to find out when you were getting off shift."

Blinking dumbly, Sara stumbled over her own words. "I don't even have a sister."

Alex leaned against the car, her shapely legs crossed at the ankles. "Lucky for me the guy I was talking to didn't know that. Is it always like this?"

Sara, unsure of what to do, sunk her hands into the sweat pant's pockets. "Is what always like what?"

Alex grinned, "You getting paged to some scene in the middle of the night and then working for days straight."

Sara opened her mouth, closed it and then shrugged, "Sometimes, I guess." Damn it, she had a Masters Degree in Theoretical Physics, yet always the prize winning science nerd cliché, she had no idea how to talk to a woman. She was usually better than this. Outside the garage, the rain poured down even harder and it occurred to Sara that she had to put on her rag top unless she wanted to spend the drive to her apartment in water to her knees. She scrubbed her hands across her eyes. "I gotta put the top on." Her words were a bit on the wobbly side, which was probably why no less than four people had offered to drive her home earlier.

Working together, she and Alex affixed the tan clothed top to the black metal. While they struggled, the model spoke. "You look like shit."

Sara, who had been snapping the last button down, looked up, "That's not what you said last night."

Alex rolled her eyes, "It wasn't last night, and that's not what I meant." The blonde paused for a moment. "I am not letting you drive home."

Sara pulled herself up to her full height. "What?!" Alex opened the driver's side door. "You can barely keep your eyes open and traffic is hell out there. Let me drive you home. I promise I'll be on my best behavior."

"Stop," Sofia bumped her shoulder against Sara's again. "if this is going to turn into a low budget porn flick, I don't want to hear it."

Sara laughed, "Hardly. The woman is the world's worst driver. After she got turned around, I made her pull over and I did drive myself home, it took an extra twenty minutes. I had been driving around Frisco since I was twelve years old, it's not even that hard a city to navigate. I thought I was going to have to end things right then and there."

Sofia looked up from rubbing Riley's exposed stomach. "But you didn't."

Sara puffed out a breath, "No. That came a few years later, early 2000, right before I came here."

Sofia watched Sara's posture go rigid as she spoke again, "Things had gotten rocky. I made second grade and her career really took off. There was this case, and well, you know how it goes sometimes."

Sofia nodded, CSIs much like Cops had an eighty percent divorce rate. This, though, was different. Shadows of sadness and a disturbing hollowness had come over Sara's dark eyes. "We put the case to bed, but things hadn't gotten back to normal yet. Riley sent me home early one day, told me to get some sleep. I would have too, but when I got home, my bed was very occupied."

Sofia winced and hissed through her teeth. "Bitch."

Sara chuckled, "Who, Alex, or the redhead pastry chef she was making time with?"

Sofia scowled, "Both."

Sara grinned, "Well that pretty much did it for me. I walked out, and Grissom more or less called me the next day."

They sat quietly for a minute, and watched the soccer game end with a less than spectacular goal. Finally, Sofia asked the question that they both knew was coming. "Do you think she's our woman, cheating on you aside?"

Sara looked directly into Sofia's eyes. "She might have gotten caught up in TAN's aggressive attitude, but kill? No, Alex couldn't kill anyone. She cries at the end of sad movies and swerves to avoid animals in the road. She didn't do that to those men."

Sofia hoped not, for Sara's sake more than anything. They started to get up and since Sofia got to her feet first. She offered Sara a friendly hand up. Looking at the other woman, she questioned Alex Dupree's sanity. Sara Sidle was smart, she had a good sense of humor, she was loyal to a fault, passionate and dedicated about and to her work and yes, she was beautiful. Why on Earth would anyone throw such a woman aside? If she -- Sofia stopped that train of thought, and the bite of jealousy that went with it, cold in her head and let Sara's hand, that she had been holding a little too long after the brunette had gotten to her feet, go. She gave Riley one last pat and hoped that Sara hadn't noticed her unintentional faux pas.

"Meeting at the lab at the beginning of shift tonight."

Sara nodded, "Since I owe you one, I'll steal a cup of Greg's Blue Hawaiian for you."

Sofia smiled and watched Sara and Riley start to jog away. "I'm holding you to that, Sidle." She watched then until the path curved away from the playing fields. "I'm in trouble." She knew that talking to oneself wasn't generally considered normal, neither was answering oneself, but today she didn't have to worry about that. She had no idea what the reply would be anyway. It was going to be a long run home.

Author's Note: It's laundry day and I keep finding tee-shirts I gave up for lost months ago. Don't act like it's never happened to you.